Reunion -- All I Ever Wanted

So my high school friends on FaceBook are all a-twitter about our upcoming 40th high school reunion. Somehow, in that time warp we live in, four decades have passed since I got on stage in Levittown, LI, and was told I had successfully completed what New York State required of me to be somewhat educated.

Sharon took the lead -- a nice woman I knew, but not too well. She still lives on LI, has a son in the Coast Guard, and, apparently, a second husband. She has been tirelessly promoting the event, which is to take place in October. I sent in my $140, and told my friend Kenny about it. He sent his in, too.

In truth, I wasn't keen about attending. Kenny and Joelle and Wifey and I went to our 20th reunion, in '99, and had a lovely weekend staying at an inn in the Hamptons. The reunion party itself was disappointing -- I realized those I cared to keep in touch with, I did, and the rest of the folks were just people I had sat next to in class, or passed in a hallway.

Still -- Kenny wanted to go. Part of it is he is not a FaceBook guy, like I am, and wanted to see old friends. FB provides me with more than enough information about old classmates. So I agreed to go.

But then fate stepped in. Dear friends Jeannette and Bob's girl Samantha, who we've known since she was born, has finally decided to marry her LONG time boyfriend. They're in their mid-30s, have dated since high school, and bought a house in Cutler Bay together. But they want to have kids, and so decided to make things legal, and they chose the same date as the reunion, in October.

I messaged Sharon and told her I couldn't make it, but keep the $140 and buy drinks for the attendees. Nah -- she said thanks, but returned my check. Same drill for Kenny -- when I told him I had to bug out, he decided to do the same -- Sharon is sending his refund, too.

Always bright, Kenny said why don't we go to dinner on the actual anniversary of our graduation -- if we could remember it. I knew it was June of '79, but I went on the reunion page and asked if anyone recalled the exact date. Immediately Gwen replied -- it was her birthday, too, and so she knew  -- June 24, 1979. It was a Sunday. So Kenny and I will hold our own marking of the date -- 1200 miles South of Levittown.

I recall the day well. My Dad wore a leisure suit -- probably the most unfortunate fashion developments of the late 70s. Mom took a photo of us on the front porch -- him handing me his wallet -- symbolizing all he was about to pay for college for me.

After the ceremony, we went to a gathering at my brother in law Dennis's parents' house -- his brother Michael was my classmate. And from there my friend Eric said he wanted to go to another get together. As we drove there, he said "You know we're headed to a big surprise going away party for you, right?"  No -- I had no idea. My girlfriend Alison and her parents had invited my parents and about 20 of our friends to their house in Seaford -- we were leaving the very next day for Florida.

It took me years to realize that Eric had lashed out -- he didn't have a girlfriend, and no party was planned for him, so he got to ruin my surprise. No biggie -- I feigned complete shock when I walked into the split level's playroom, and there was a sign that said "Goodbye and Good Luck, Dave."

It was a delightful send off. I really appreciated what her parents did for me. I saw Alison last September in Dallas. He Dad had long ago died, and her mother, Sandy, still lives alone in the Seaford house. Some things remain constant.

The next morning, Mark and John and Fitz and Mike, my oldest friends (since kindergarten) came by, and we stood by the moving van, planning to get together in Florida. Mark was headed to Florida Keys Community College to study Marine Mechanic Repairs, and indeed I saw the others a few times in Miami, when they came to visit . We hugged, the van left, and my Mom and Dad got into Dad's enormous Olds '98 Regency, and I followed in my red Firebird. We caravanned , using CB radios, to a hotel in Lorton, Va, where we would spend the night before boarding the Auto Train, which would save us about 18 hours of driving.

I still remember the uncomfortable seats -- we barely slept as the train overnighted down the East Coast. We got off near Orlando, and drove to Delray Beach, where Dad had rented two rooms at the Bermuda Inn on AIA -- our place until the Kings Point condo was complete -- due a few weeks later.

A few days later we all went to the Driver's License office on Linton Boulevard. I've been a Floridian since.

I strolled into Boston's, alone, the day I turned 18, and ordered my first legal beer. I drank it alone at the bar, and toasted my past life -- on Long Island. College at UM was to start in a few months. So much would change.

So I plan to follow Kenny's suggestion. It'll be next month, and we will mark the actual date -- 4 decades in the past. We'll do it without the run down hotel in Islip where the party takes place in October.

Where DID that time go?